


Feather

by Halevetica



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Cutesy, Flustered Aziraphale (Good Omens), M/M, Mild Teasing, Mutual Pining, Pining Aziraphale (Good Omens), Pining Crowley (Good Omens), Post canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 00:23:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19800865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halevetica/pseuds/Halevetica
Summary: Aziraphale has been using one of Crowley's feathers as a bookmark and Crowley accidentally finds out.





	Feather

Crowley loved Aziraphale, there was no question about it. Aziraphale knew it. Heaven and Hell knew it. God herself knew it. What they didn't know was that Aziraphale loved Crowley too. Okay maybe they did know, but Crowley didn't. Aziraphale had seen to that, turning down Crowley's advances century after century for six thousand years.

Aziraphale felt bad but for the first several thousand years he didn't even know. The next several thousand he spent in denial. The few thousand after that he tried to get over the demon to no avail. It was wrong for a demon and an angel to love each other. It was...blasphemy really and truly. Aziraphale knew his side wouldn't like it if he was canoodling with the enemy. It was bad enough he was fraternizing with him.

However, that had been before. Now he need not worry what 'his side' might say. He didn't have a side, not anymore. He and Crowley were on their own side.

It had been no less than a week since their respective trials and Aziraphale still hadn't come up with the courage to tell the demon how he felt. He feared that doing so might ruin what they had. What if he was wrong about Crowley's feelings for him? What if Crowley didn't want to be with Aziraphale?

It was these doubts that kept the angel pining in silence.

Crowley too was pining in silence. He'd made it obvious how he felt without actually having to say it. That wasn't something he was ready to do, especially when he was certain Aziraphale would turn him down. He'd done so so many times already. Yet Crowley kept coming back for more. Which is what Crowley was doing now.

He stepped into the small bookshop to find the space empty. Aziraphale must have been upstairs in his tiny flat above the shop.

Crowley decided to wait for the angel to come down. He's stopped by to return a book Aziraphale had let him borrow. Crowley had only borrowed it for a reason to stop by the angel's shop. And he was only returning it now for a reason to stop by the angel's shop. He had been considering asking Aziraphale to dinner. They always went to lunch. Lunch said friends. But dinner...dinner was more than that. At least he thought so. And he was sure Aziraphale thought so. He didn't know why he expected this time to be any different from the last times. Other than the fact that they had averted the apocalypse and were both now disowned from their respective sides. Instead he'd decided to just return the book. Maybe he'd get the courage to ask him soon, but not tonight.

Crowley reached the small tartan sofa to see a book splayed open on one of the seats. The demon halted in place. His heart leapt into his throat at the sight of what was laid gently in the crease of the book. A feather.

But not just any feather. A long sleek black feather. A feather he'd know anywhere.

Crowley touched the delicate piece of him with shaking fingers. Aziraphale was using one of Crowley's feathers as a bookmark.

"Oh, Crowley, I didn't hear you come in. I thought I locked the-" Aziraphale paused at the bottom of the stairs when he saw what Crowley was staring at. Panic washed over the angel. He had simply gone to put the kettle on for a tea and set his book aside. He hadn't expected any customers and so he'd left the book out.

"Where'd you get this?" Crowley asked, his eyes not leaving the feather.

"Oh, you dropped it...that day on the wall...it was so...pretty I..." Aziraphale stumbled over his words.

"Pretty?" Crowley snapped his head up meeting Aziraphale's eyes for the first time.

"Y-yes," the angel stuttered nervously. "I always found your wings to be rather beautiful."

"Beautiful?" Crowley repeated again, with a frown. Demons weren't meant be perceived as beautiful. They were damned for crying out loud.

"Does-does it bother you? I can...use something else if you'd rather," Aziraphale's hands writhed nervously in front of him.

"How long have you been using it as a-" Crowley trailed off, his eyes falling back to the open book on the couch.

"Ever since books were invented," Aziraphale answered with a thick swallow. He couldn't quite guage Crowley's reaction.

"That's wasn't til like the 9th century," Crowley's gaped at the angel.

"Actually, it was-"

"What did you do with it before?" Crowley cut in then, keeping Aziraphale from going into the long drawn out history of books.

"Oh I kept it on me," Aziraphale smiled.

Crowley's jaw dropped slightly.

Aziraphale, seeming to realize how that sounded, attempted to backtrack, "To uh...remind me...that you...were to be thwarted..." the angel fell over his words.

"Aziraphale," Crowley's tone didn't help the angel decipher the demon's thoughts. It made him anxious not knowing.

"I never meant for you to see that," Aziraphale was growing more nervous by the way Crowley was walking towards him. Slow and calculating, like a predator stalking it's prey.

"Would you have dinner with me, angel?" Crowley asked then, pausing a few feet from Aziraphale.

"I'm-I'm sorry?" The question threw him off.

"Dinner. Will you go to dinner with me?" Crowley repeated.

"You never invite me to dinner," Aziraphale frowned.

"Yes, but I am now. Perhaps we could, I don't know, go for a picnic...dine at the Ritz?" Crowley held his breath as he waited for the angel's answer. He was sure there would be a flustered rejection but seeing his feather had given him the courage to try again.

"Oh," Aziraphale blushed as Crowley used the words he'd said to him so many years before. "I rather think..." Aziraphale trailed off.

Crowley's shoulder slumped. Aziraphale was going to reject him again.

"The Ritz would be nice. It's too dark for a picnic," the angel finished with a smile.

Crowley gaped at the angel, unable to form words.

Aziraphale took a careful step forward and slid his hand into Crowley's. "Shall we go?"

Crowley looked down at where the angel's hand fit into his.

"Is this alright? Have I overstepped?" Aziraphale went to pull away, doubt eating at him once again.

Crowley gripped Aziraphale's hand tighter to keep him from pulling away.

"It's fine as long it's not too fast for you."

"Oh alright, I get it," Aziraphale huffed, "I'm sorry I made you wait."

Crowley gave a smirk, "I'd wait for eternity for you, angel."

Aziraphale gave a flustered, "Oh." As Crowley gently pulled him out the door.

If the angel spent the entire dinner blushing, well, that was Crowley's fault.


End file.
